Far Too Close for Comfort
I often find myself thinking ‘I am so happy that something surely must go wrong’ in my life. It’s no exaggeration that I am generally a pretty motivated and satisfied person. I am also superstitious and worry constantly about the health and well-being of my Husband Peter and myself. When he is late from a bike ride, my thoughts automatically think ‘accident’; when I am out on the roads driving or cycling I always do so in a defensive manner. I’ve been in too many car crashes (one) and been hit by too many cars on my bike (three) to do it any other way.
Last week, all of these concerns seemed to meet at a time that put me in the ‘wrong place at the wrong time’ when I was trying to get home to Peter who was very, very sick. He fell ill on the way home from Spain and I felt awful abandoning him at the Montreal Airport when I had to continue on to Toronto for a few days of appearances. The drive home to our house in the mountains (2 hours) was not an easy one and after this ordeal Peter parked himself on the couch, unable to move. While in Toronto, I would call regularly, urging him to go to the Doctor or call a neighbour.
Normally, this is a lot of information to give in a journal entry. Trust me; it’s leading to something- something terrible that has to be the worst experience of my life thus far.
I rented a car to come home because Peter was too sick to pick me up. Still tired with jetlag, I decided to pull off the highway and get a coffee for the road. It was one of those big outlet malls with a Starbucks. Just as I put the triple latte in the cup holder, while searching for the exit of the mall to get back on the highway, I saw a flash to my left. In a split second, I realized this flash was a car. Without thinking, I slammed on the brakes. Unable to avoid the vehicle, I slammed into its rear passenger side. I then watched the small SUV skid on two wheels and then flip over, flying to the other side of the road. The rental car screeched to a halt.
I sat incredulous at the scene I had just witnessed. Cars stopped and people frantically called 911. I got out of the car and looked at the overturned vehicle, wondering in complete dismay if the occupant(s) were okay. Terrified they were hurt. How could they not be? How was I not hurt, either?
Before I could think too much, a young lady came over to see if I was okay. She and her boyfriend had just witnessed the entire accident. Seeing I was fine, she ran back over to the flipped vehicle. At this point, the driver crawled out of the window. He began pacing back and forth and I was relieved to see no visible blood. The girl came back and informed me there were no other people in the car. I looked closer at the man and saw staggering. I then saw him put gum in his mouth. Then, he lit a cigarette. I asked the girl beside me, “Do you think he’s drunk?”
“Yes”
I looked again and any pity I had for this human being turned to rage. Because of his stupidity, my life almost ended moments earlier. Had I not seen him coming, I would have been nailed right into the driver’s door. The result, I don’t want to think of. And this man, he would not even look at me.
I watched the police, ambulance and fire truck arrive. Shivering and afraid, I observed the man be first questioned, then asked to walk a line, next frisked and finally, arrested. Yes, he was drunk. Lit. Loaded. And, he tried to kill me.
The tow trucks came and towed the two completely totalled vehicles. I was questioned by the paramedics and finally, wrote a police report. Not only did the driver drink and drive, he also ran a stop sign, went straight where he could only go right, and I believe come at me at least 60kms per hour. I broke down when I called Peter, still sick at home, only to tell him that I had been in a very bad accident. I could hear his worry through his obvious sick state.
Because I had no way of getting home, I had to take a taxi. For 140kms! This cost me $175.00 and I will likely not be reimbursed because of the way insurance works. And now, I stress over the insurance, afraid that I may be penalized for someone else’s recklessness.
I am just happy to be alive; happy that Peter is feeling better and partially traumatized from this experience. I just can’t believe people drink and drive like that. How can people do this? I can’t help but this of the irony that I was in the Middle East only a week before, and of all the warnings and concerns from friends on the idea of traveling to this part of the world. Nothing happened to me there, and on the way home from the airport, in Canada, my life is put at great, great risk.
The only way I can make any peace with this experience is knowing that by being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and thankfully nobody getting hurt, perhaps I prevented this horrible person from continuing on driving drunk and killing others. Other than this thought, there is nothing positive to come out of this. It’s not like I need to make life changes or am not happy. I am exactly where I want to be. In my wildest dreams could not have imagined being gifted the life I have thus far led.
In closing, please don’t ever, ever drink and drive. Ever.
